


Love

by AquaMarinara



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: AU where the core four go to university together in NYC, And some baking, Baking!Betty anyone?, Betty has a crush on Jughead but he's oblivious, F/M, I know Jughead's hand is raised right now, So there's a healthy dose of pining, as usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 16:24:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16099358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AquaMarinara/pseuds/AquaMarinara
Summary: Betty bakes, Jughead's oblivious, and love prevails.





	Love

**Author's Note:**

> Because the best way to write the final chapter of your WIP is to write something completely different, right? Right.
> 
> Here's a short drabble that came to me today and would not leave me alone.
> 
> Thank you to the lovely Dottie for beta'ing.
> 
> See you on the flip side!

He’d thought it was all for Archie.

 

The casual stops by their apartment in the evenings. The pasta dishes that came along with them. The little sticky notes left on the fridge for the next morning that read  _ Have a good day today! Be safe. _

 

He’d thought it was all for Archie because it wasn’t like Jughead needed a reminder to  _ be safe _ . And especially because there was no way in hell Jughead Jones deserved any of it. Any of her.

 

Betty Cooper.

 

They’d met through Archie, his assigned dorm roommate last year, and chosen apartment roommate this year. He’d never expected to become friends with the muscular Mary Sue who ran around shirtless no matter the season, but they’d somehow become best friends throughout their freshman year of college (Jughead thinks it probably has something to do with the fact that Archie had brought his PS4 along with him, as well as an extra controller).

 

Betty Cooper was Archie’s friend and, much to Jughead’s amusement, next-door neighbor from back home, and they’d somehow both ended up in the same city for university. Not that it was odd for people to wind up in New York City after high school—with the hundred-plus colleges in the five boroughs alone, Jughead’s surprised he doesn’t know  _ more  _ people their age (not that he had ever made it a point to introduce himself to anyone who looked to be in their twenties. Or thirties, for that matter.)

 

Betty had taken to stopping by their dorm nearly every night with her own roommate, Veronica, and the three of them would gang up on him when his movie choice proved to be too “dramatic” or “pretentious”. (Jughead thinks he might have to gouge his eyes out if he’s ever forced to sit through another showing of Clueless again.)

 

The boys had been obliged to buy into NYU’s meal plan last year, which had, for the most part, worked in Jughead’s favor. Easily accessible—and relatively healthy—meals had been ready at the swipe of his ID card, even if they were heavily overpriced.

 

However, as second year students in apartment-style residences, they’d opted to save their money and cook for themselves—a disaster that nobody but Betty could have anticipated.

 

_ The blonde had heavily knocked on their door on the first Friday of the semester and all but barged into their apartment, arms laden with groceries and cleaning supplies. _

 

_ “You two are pigs,” she’d announced before wiping down the narrow strip of kitchen counter and setting her grocery bags down.  _

 

_ Archie had barely looked up from his game of Skyrim and only hummed in response. There was no denying it. _

 

_ Half-open packets of instant ramen crowded the overhead cupboards and dried-up coffee spills stained the counter surrounding the unwashed mugs. The trash hadn’t been taken out yet, paper plates and red Solo cups nearly falling over the brim of the bin. _

 

_ She’d set to work and Jughead had tried to protest, really, but she’d shooed him away with a hiss, and he had retreated to his room.  _

 

_ They came out of it with a clean kitchen, stocked fridge, and mini pizza bagels heating up in the microwave. _

 

_ Jughead had refused to eat any of them, to enjoy the fruits of her labor. They were all for Archie, anyway. He’d seen how she looked at him. Why else would she have spent her Friday afternoon doing all that? _

 

_ Right? _

 

That’s what he had thought. Until she’d come over even when Archie wasn’t home. Even when he was out. On a date.  _ With Veronica. _

 

Earlier that night, right as Archie had been heading out for his evening gig at the bar down the street, she’d dropped off a batch of cupcakes with a note stuck to the top of the aluminum foil that covered them, written in her slanted script:  _ I can’t eat these. Just thought I’d bake something. Enjoy! _

 

Right after she left, he’d taken one.

 

Just one. And then he’d ran back to his room, mouth stuffed full of bright vanilla fluff and guilt.

 

They weren’t for him.

 

_ Unless they were. _

 

It was that thought that had betrayed him. That keeps betraying him, even as he sneaks back out of his room and to the kitchen for another baked good.

 

He’s sitting on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table and fingers peeling apart the bottom half of the cake (so that he can turn it into a sandwich—the only correct way to eat a cupcake), when he hears a clatter come from the kitchen and nearly jumps out of his skin.

 

The din of metal against linoleum continues as he whips his head to face the noise, just in time to catch a glimpse of blonde disappear behind the counter.

 

Shit.

 

“Betty?”

 

“Uh…yeah?” Her voice is faint, muffled by the wood of the cabinets and, if he knows her well enough, the fact that she’s whispering her response to the floor, embarrassed. 

 

“H—” He takes a second to mull over his words, feeling them heavy on his tongue. “How long have you been standing there?” She’s definitely seen him. And the cupcake.  _ Shit _ .

 

“Not long,” comes her reply, now just a bit louder but still overpowered by the sound of pans clattering as she picks them up and off of the ground. “I just thought—“

 

“—I’m sorry.”

 

“What?” Her head pops up from behind the counter, and her eyebrow arches in the way it always does when she’s confused—and amused. It’s typically aimed at Archie. “For what?”

 

“Uh,” he stutters as his hand waves weakly in front of the messy, mauled cupcake still clutched between the fingers of his other hand. “For taking this. And another one, earlier.”

 

She laughs, a slight chuckle that has her eyes crinkling adorably at the corners and her ponytail swaying from side to side. “Don’t be silly, Jug. They’re for you.”

 

It’s his turn to be confused now. Had that one traitorous thought of his actually been correct? They were for  _ him _ ? Maybe out of courtesy. Like, fifteen percent for him, eighty-five percent for his roommate.

 

“Well, um, I know that they’re for Archie too, so I shouldn’t have—”

 

“Archie’s out, Jug. He and Veronica are at the bar.”

 

“I know that,” he huffs, frustrated at himself for not wording things right. “But that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t get any.”

 

“Jughead,” she starts sternly, and he already knows that what she’s about to say is going to make him feel like the dumbest twenty-something to have ever existed. The dumbest anything to have ever existed. “I brought a dozen cupcakes over, and you had two. There are more than enough for Archie, if you want to share them with him. But they’re for you.  _ Only _ you.” Her green eyes widen, burn brighter, to emphasize that last phrase, and Jughead gulps, repeating her words over and over again in his head.

 

_ Only you _ .

 

“Sure, the dinners started out for the both of you. Lord knows you would’ve contracted scurvy if I hadn’t hidden some cauliflower in the lasagna, or blended peas into the pesto. But—” she cuts herself off, and he finds himself drawn to her, pushing himself off the couch and in the direction of the kitchen, where she’s standing with the knocked-over pots and pans in her arms.

 

“But, really, I wanted an excuse to come by. Even when Archie wasn’t here.  _ Especially _ when Archie wasn’t here.” Her head tilts toward the floor as he expects it to, and his index finger reaches out to lift her chin up. To make sure that he catches her gaze before he speaks this time.

 

“You know I love food, Betty. It’s quite possibly the best way to a man’s—this man’s—heart.” She smiles slightly at that, and he finds that the corners of his lips turn up with hers. “But you didn’t need to cook or bake or take the time to make all that just for me. Of course I appreciate it, so much, but you already had my heart.”

 

His index finger drops when her head suddenly tilts up on its own, this time to match her lips to his. She tastes like bright vanilla fluff and a feeling much nicer than guilt.

 

Love.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So...that was over a thousand words of pure fluff. Who's surprised? Not me. I can't seem to write anything else.
> 
> Let me know what you thought! Please leave any questions, comments, concerns, or reviews below.
> 
> Much love,  
> Mari
> 
> (PS: Come chat with me over at writeraquamarinara.tumblr.com!)


End file.
